


Takashi's Three Bitter Days/ Beat Me Down Again, It's Time ||OHSHC

by Memento__Mori



Series: Mori Writes  /  Poetry and Plots || OHSHC [20]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emo Mori, F/M, Guilt, Haruhi missed school, Mention of STDs, Mori just went spare, Other, Three Bitter Days, part of a poem, post Valentine's Day fallout, sex ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memento__Mori/pseuds/Memento__Mori
Summary: The day after Valentine's Day, Haruhi was absent. This didn't happen, it was an impossibility, but the fact was she wasn't at school and no one had heard a thing. It was lousy timing for a certain student.  If Takashi had known why she was out, he would've felt even more guilty than he already did.
Relationships: Fujioka Haruhi/Morinozuka Takashi
Series: Mori Writes  /  Poetry and Plots || OHSHC [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631236
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5





	Takashi's Three Bitter Days/ Beat Me Down Again, It's Time ||OHSHC

The day after Valentine's Day, Haruhi was absent. This didn't happen, it was an impossibility, but the fact was she wasn't at school and no one had heard a thing. It was lousy timing for a certain student.If Takaski had known why she was out, he would've felt even more guilty than he already did.

She decided to get it out of the way. Haruhi came clean to Ranka, though she didn't go into a lot of detail and absolutely would not say who the boy was.

Kyoya had those papers for a while, who knows what Ranka might have imagined from an insinuation here or there, though if he had been truly suspicious heads would have rolled by now. 

She'd have to trust Kyoya to keep his mouth shut a little longer about the identity of her partner. From the poetry, she could tell he had reason to. After all, they both had semi-secret boyfriends. 

Boyfriend. Even the word made her heart beat faster. They had waited so long to even talk, it felt as though they were together in that special silence. Even that thought was embarrassingly fanciful. Not for the first or last time that day, she blushed beet red. Boyfriend, yes. They were both level-headed people who had been so crazy about each other that they were stunned into silence. No longer, she was determined not to lose the progress they had made, it felt so natural once the two of them were at the table. That's why she HAD to make things right with her father NOW.

How was she supposed to talk to him when it took Kyoya's sister accidentally mailing that poetry for the two of them to admit... wait, she had basically confessed her love to him! Now what? There was that word again... Boyfriend. She looked at Ranka nervously.

When her father found out that she had had close sexual contact with absolutely no protection the first stop was the gynecologist. Dad wanted the full work up. Well, that was awkward and sensible, if not exactly sensitive.

STD screening, pregnancy test, a very long talk about every single method of birth control and a lecture about when emergency birth control, including "the morning after pill" is useful and when it isn't. There was no point saying that it had been over half a year, she got the full crash course.

She wasn't pregnant, but learned it was possible for slender people to go a long time without showing any signs of pregnancy. That was terrifying, and highly improbable. At least she had checked with a home pregnancy kit, and another months before this ordeal. 

The second day was spent at a clinic where she got a crash course in Sex Ed. 

She discovered to her horror that sperm could live longer outside the body than she had imagined, provided the semen hadn't dried. She was suddenly glad she hadn't gone into detail about everything she had done with her hands, and what those those other hands had done with her. 

Finding out sperm could live for days if they had managed to get into her made sense for the human race, but it made her feel... like she and Takashi has been playing with fire. No matter how comforting the clinician had been that her chances of pregnancy had been "next to nothing," and that STDs were the real concern, somehow Haruhi didn't feel all that comforted. She was also getting tired of being spoken to as if she were a complete idiot, but expected nothing less.

Like chemistry class, she heard the drill over and over: Wash everything that had come near semen. Especially hands, skin and “toys.” The longing heat she felt for Takashi did not fade, though it was overlaid with the image of treating those talented hands of his like HAZMAT.

The day wouldn't have been complete without a video of childbirth. The entire time it played, a stunned Haruhi speculated on the size of an infant Morinozuka’s head. The thought stayed with her, accompanied by rhythmic breathing, screaming and other details from the presentation.

After hearing the virtues of abstinence came lessons about birth control and how to use it. There probably wasn't a worse punishment than being required to roll a condom over a banana repeatedly, but thinking about the future was worse. 

The third day was spent in her room coming to grips with life and looking her dad in the eye after she told him she had made the first move. Mori seemed like the nicest and most sincere man she had ever known, but that meant nothing when push came to shove. He hadn’t held back all that much, at least to her mind. She did understand why he had braced her up high, though, and it couldn’t have been just for the view. Where she had tried to straddle him was covered with cum.

The instructor had to mention absolutely everything at least twice, as though Haruhi hadn't thought about the ramifications of her actions. As though she hadn't beaten herself up over something that still seemed isolated from the rest of reality, something absolutely perfect. 

Even so, this isn't her story. This note is to tell you know why Haruhi wasn't in school today, or the next day or the next. Right after Valentine's Day, Haruhi was nowhere to be found.

____________

## Takashi's Three Bitter Days/ 

## Beat Me Down Again, It's Time ||OHSHC

You saw my soul

Faults and flaws and holes.

It's my fault. It's my fault.

I'll take it like a man–

Beat me down again. It's time.

I never should have written.

This passion should be hidden,

Silence is the only way

To keep my feral self at bay.

It's my fault. It's my fault.

The foolish risk I took, my

Love overly confessed–endangered,

By soul-song shared on paper,

My weakness in a book.

I did not stay silent.

The words still found a way.

The verdict? They were right–

I lost another fight, I am guilty.

I put you in harm's way–

Writing down what none should say.

Beat me down again. It's time.

Please,

Keep this beast in line.

I'm not safe this way–

My heart must be contained.

It's my fault. It's my fault. 

Forgive me, 

Please.

I stopped being A Nō mask,

A clown, a pleasant prop, a tree,

Who would they rather see?

A dead-faced dancer in the show

There's so much more to say;

Will we live day to day, empty?

Fulfill our rôles

Of men loved by the hour?

Turn the laugh-track on,

Cue the brightness of your smile,

That question always in your eyes--

"What do I have to tell you, my Senpai?"

Beat me down again. It's time.

I am guilty.

Before I see your face again,

And you tell me where and when

To take my place

No better than the background,

The lowest of the high

Beat me down again, it's time

The shut up

Sit down

Hold still

Be good

Don't scare the other

Students

Don't scare the other students, 

Oh I know–

Don't say it.

Unless they want me to,

An hour at a time!

See a freak, a mask, a mute, a mime–

Then on to the next number...

Waiting for their cheap thrill

Patiently in line.

Beat me down again, beat me down.

Make me to sit still against

All my molten will while I

Cherish you, worship you with

Haunted, hooded eyes–

Pray on your burning thighs,

Innocent, I pray only with my eyes

Innocent of me, of my touch,

... Mostly .

Beat me down again. It's time.

It's my fault we fell.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, it's a start... I always like to read your reactions, though I hope this inner chant isn't too much, or the prose beforehand isn't too long.
> 
> (Kudos are my guilty pleasure... )


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